The following is an excerpt from Deanne Stillman’s new book, American Confidential: Uncovering the Bizarre Relationship Between Lee Harvey Oswald and his Mother. The book explores Lee Harvey Oswald and his mother Marguerite, and how their strange relationship factored into the JFK assassination.Together, they formed ‘a conspiracy of one’, as Deanne calls it, locked in pursuit of fame and recognition, a campaign to matter. It all erupted on November 22, 1963. In this excerpt, Deanne reconstructs a little-known road trip that the pair made from New Orleans to the Bronx, leaving their thirteenth address and seeking a better life with Lee’s half-brother who was stationed in New York in the Coast Guard. En route, Marguerite fantasizes about meeting rich people and eating lobster and the teen-age Lee joins in.
Around fourth or fifth grade, amid the ongoing moves and general turmoil, it appeared that Lee was becoming more agitated. Once again, Marguerite was running out of money—a subject that was discussed at least once on any given day for as long as the boys could remember. It was time yet again to relocate. But where? And when? The answer would present itself as it always did, but how long could she hold out? One day in 1950, August 15, to be precise, in violation of the rule to only call Marguerite at work if it was an emergency, Lee phoned her to report some big news: Queen Elizabeth had just had a baby—an important person has been born!—and of course the fact that he was relaying the news would make him important in her eyes. And so, the time had come—a new address awaited her arrival, if only she knew what it was, exactly, but without a doubt an upgrade was in the cards; she and Lee should live where royals lived, and over the next few months, there came an answer. Marguerite’s eldest son John Pic had enlisted in the Coast Guard and was stationed on Ellis Island—away from his mother at last!
Robert had dropped out of school at seventeen like his mother, was working as a checker in a supermarket and giving most of his salary to her for household expenses and getting ready to join the Marines. With John and Robert no longer under her care, there was no better way for Marguerite to start over—to heed the calling—than to visit John and his wife and their baby in the Bronx where they were living—in New York City, home of our very own royals—so she and Lee packed up a few things, piled into her 1948 Dodge, and hit the road. They had just left the home that was their thirteenth address, joining the parade of no-mads without end, entering the stream of American zen, moving fast through time and space and really going nowhere.
“Lee Harvey”—yes, that’s what she and the boys sometimes called him—“when we get to New York, we’ll show everyone” is what I imagine her saying, and here is a mash-up of some things that are real and some things that are informed by what’s on the record; I’m pretty sure this is how it went between Mother and son: “I’m going to show you everything like it’s nobody’s business, and it will be a thing to remember . . . ” And they did go to the Museum of Natural History with John as their guide, wandering through the Hall of Minerals or dinosaur exhibit and marveling at the wonders, and then went on to Rockefeller Center where the rich people worked on the upper levels and The Today Show was televised with the chimpanzee sidekick J. Fred Muggs and all of the famous people came to talk about their accomplishments; “maybe someday you’ll be on that show too, son, I’ll be watching!” and then they probably ordered the lobster at the exclusive restaurant on the top floor and Marguerite promised that they’d come back someday and see the Christmas tree that was world-renowned and all of the beautiful ice skaters, princesses, after all, and then it was on to other popular locales; they went to the automat and watched the food whiz by, and they did walk down Fifth Avenue and look in store windows, which prompted Marguerite to remark, “Of course, we’ll never have anything like that; only rich people do, and they don’t like us, do they Lee Harvey?”
“Of course they don’t, Maw”—for that’s what the boys called Marguerite, Maw—“we’re not like them. We’re different than everyone else,” and then perhaps there was a moment of responsive recitation, a duet of sorts —
MARGUERITE: Where did we grow up?
LEE: South of the Mason-Dixon Line.
MARGUERITE: That’s right, son. But this will change soon. When we get to the Big Apple and take our bite. Oh the places we’ll go. Everyone will be so jealous. They will worship us when they find out how well we are doing. Won’t they, Lee Harvey?
LEE: Yes they will, Maw.
MARGUERITE: Now repeat after me . . . I’m special.
LEE: I’m special.
MARGUERITE: There’s no one else like me.
LEE: There’s no one else like me.
MARGUERITE: The world is my oyster.
LEE: The world is my oyster.
MARGUERITE: And we’re going to be just like the Rockefellers and live like kings.
LEE: Maw, that’s weird.
MARGUERITE: Say it, Lee Harvey.
LEE: We’re going to be just like the Rockefellers and live like kings.
And then maybe he fell asleep as the car headed through the night, with Eddie Fisher and Patti Page on the radio and Frankie Laine, too, and Frankie was singing “High Noon,” which Lee Harvey would whistle hours before he whacked John Fitzgerald Kennedy, and on the car went towards the Big Apple where all of the fancy people lived and experienced fine dining every night of their goddamn lives and then somebody would turn down the sheets on their beds just like in the movies.
But when they got there, the understory prevailed and here are some things that really happened: Lee attacked his sister-in-law with a knife, and Marguerite got a job selling notions on Canal Street.
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